That Choice You Had to Make?
by mydoctortennant
Summary: Part of the Untitled One-Shot Series; When Lancelot returns it could end up a complete disaster! Slight Lance bashing... sorry.


The sun was rising in the sky, not a cloud was in sight. Awakened early by the cry of a baby, Arthur stood watching over Camelot, watching the sun rise, the baby in question in his arms. In fascinated awe, the young boy watched the pretty ball of light. Garbling and giggling at it, pointing at the sun.

"And this, my boy, will one day be yours," Arthur cooed. He'd taken to fatherhood like a fish out of water, but slowly, over the last few months he'd learnt what it was to run a kingdom and raise an heir at the same time, "in years to come, you shall learn every nook and cranny of this city. I will teach you to be a King of the people."

On looking down into the courtyard, Arthur noticed a lone figure clad in chain mail walking towards the castle steps.

"And with him, I must cut this short."

-

Arthur returned to his and Gwen's chambers, Baby Llancan reaching out for his mother on sight.  
"Back so soon?" she asked. On mornings like this, when Llancan's cries woke the young royals, Arthur would spend a good hour with his son, showing him the land.

"We have a visitor," he handed the young boy to his wife, and pressed a light lips to the top of his head, and another to Gwen's forehead, "I shouldn't be long."

-

"What are you doing here, Lancelot?" Arthur demanded as he entered the Great Hall, "The last time I saw you, you tried to take my wife from me."

"I was a fool."

"Yes, you were. As you are now. Why have you returned to Camelot?" he sat on his throne, crown about his head as he casually leaned on his hand.

"I have come to claim what is rightfully mine."

"And what is that exactly?"

"Guinevere."

Arthur stopped; his gaze was intently on Lancelot that he, nor Lancelot, didn't notice the door open behind him.

"I am not rightfully anyone's," Lancelot turned to see the lady in question cradling a fussing baby. Gwen strode past his and handed the young Prince to his father, "he's been fussing since you left."

"You have a son?"

"Yes, _we_ do," Arthur replied. His jealousy of the older male had been evident for years.

Always worried that Gwen would leave him. He hoped against all else that the boy in his arms would be her one reason to stay.

Gwen sat beside her King, her husband, reaching across to run her fingers across her son's face.

"He's his father's son," she said proudly. Arthur laid his free hand over Gwen's that rested on the arm of his chair.

"I am sorry, my lord," Lancelot offered, "But no child can stand in the way of my love. It is Guinevere's choice."

"Yes, Lancelot, it is."

"A choice that takes no effort to make, Lancelot. I loved you once, but my life is here. Alongside Arthur. Alongside my husband and my child."

-

With Llancan with the nurse maid as he slept, and Arthur tending to a matter in one of the neighbouring villages, Gwen was looking out over the city, the breeze on her face, taking her hair from the back and battering it around her.

"I hear Lancelot has returned," Merlin said as he came to stand next to her. He crossed his arms loosely across his chest against the breeze, his new uniform forcing him devoid of the neckerchief he had become accustomed to over the years.

"You heard correctly."

"What does he want?"

"What he always wanted."

"You?"

"I married Arthur. The last time he came, he tried to stop me, told of he loved me but I married Arthur anyway."

"He will never give up on you."

"I'm married, and I'm happy," Gwen reasoned, she sighed as she looked over the kingdom. She looked up to Merlin, mouth set in a tight line, "Why can't he understand that?"

"Perhaps he thinks that if he tries hard enough you will go back to him."

"I was never with him," she turned away from Merlin again, the afternoon sun baking down on her face, "He's asking me to choose thinking I will choose him over my family."

"And will he?" Gwen shot a glare at him.

"Of course not, Merlin," she chastised, "I married Arthur. Even when Lancelot begged me not to. I'm not turning my back on him now."

"And if you weren't married?"

"Why do you think I would leave Arthur? Lancelot left me, multiple times, Merlin. I knew long ago that I could never trust him to stay," she shook her head, unsure of herself, "I loved him once."

"Maybe he thinks you still do."

"I've been married to Arthur for two years. Where has he been in that time, Merlin?"

"Sulking because you married the King?" Merlin tried lightening the mood, his dopey grin on his face. It soon disappeared when Gwen scowled at him.

"Lancelot had his chance years ago, Merlin. I married Arthur. I love him, and I love our little boy. How could I ever leave them and be able to live with myself? I could never abandon the people I love. Not for anybody."

"What does Arthur think?"

"He trusts I will do the right thing."

"By whom?"

"By myself. He loves me enough to let me go."

"And would he need to?"

"Merlin-"

"Right, sorry. Have you told Lancelot?"

"And how do I do that when he refuses to listen?"

"Just talk to him."

"When did this all turn into such a disaster?"

"It'll only end up as one if you let it. Arthur loves you. Lancelot loves you. You told me once you would never have to choose between them. Now you do. Who do you choose?"

Gwen remembered, back when Lancelot had first come to Camelot. She had laughed at the mere thought of it. She'd never have thought she would have to choose between the two men, but now she did and she didn't have to think about it.

"Arthur. I choose Arthur."

-

Gwen stood watching over Llancan, watching him as his serene features smiles in his peaceful sleep. She only looked up when she heard the door creak behind her as Lancelot entered the child's nursery.

"Have you made your decision?" he inquired, closely the door quietly behind him so not to disturb the sleeping child.

"I told you what I decided."

"You have not changed your mind?"

"Two years ago you objected to our nuptials. You told me you loved me, but I married Arthur anyway. That was my answer, Lancelot," Lancelot looked away from her; down at the boy in the crib, he shifted in his sleep, fitful with the stranger watching him.

"Your son looks like you."

"He looks like Arthur."

"Run away with me, Guinevere," he turned to her, all of a sudden desperate, "We could take the baby. Start a new life as a family."

"I have a family. That _baby_ is part of my family!"

"Are you happy, Guinevere?"

"I am."

"Truly?"

"Truly. You see the door there? That door connects this nursery to the King's chambers. The chamber he shares with his Queen. This room we are in symbolises our union in more ways than one. I loved you once, Lancelot, but I have grown up since then. I am a wife, mother and Queen of this land. I will not abandon my life because you say I must. I'm happy. Please can you just accept that?"

The King stood outside the door, ready to enter the nursery to see his son. Finding his wife had been a bonus, finding his rival hadn't been part of the plan. He'd listened to her words with a smile on his face. He knew then that she was his. Not that he had questioned it, but it was nice to have some affirmation.

He pushed away from the door and took off up the corridor back towards the throne room.

"I will not leave you," Lancelot confessed, raising his hand to her face.

"You must," she pulled away from him, lowering his hand from her face and pushing his arm back down to his side, "Camelot is not your home. You will not be happy here."

"I do not wish to leave you."

"I will never change my mind. This is my life. This is what I choose," she delicately ran her fingers over her son's face, a smile on her face.

"You are sure?"

"Certain."

Silence. Lancelot took in the scene in front of him. He couldn't part her from her son, nor from the life that had her smiling in this way.

"He truly is a lucky man."

"Lancelot-"

"I meant the boy, with you as a mother, he is blessed."

"He was born to be King, and that is what he will be."

"I get it; I do. Arthur can give you so much more."

"Arthur gave up everything for me. His father revoked him of his title when he told him he wanted to marry me. Arthur never gave up and in time his father realised how serious Arthur was. To fight so admirably for love showed just how good a King he would be."

"If he hurts you-"

"He won't."

"I have an apology to make."

"Accepted."

"To Arthur as well."

"You will find him in the throne room. He'll be managing the towns requests."

"Thank you," he nodded. He thought for a second about reaching for her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, but he thought it inappropriate. He left her standing over her son. He knew then that any attempt to pry her from this life would prove unfruitful.

-

Arthur stood watching over the morning bustle of Camelot, his enamoured son in his arms. The sun settled in its place in the sky.

"Showing him his kingdom?" the Queen asked as she emerged towards the battlements from the castle. It always amused her at how beautiful such a simple town could look in the morning sun, but then she'd seldom saw it from such a place before now. She was still getting used to it.

"When he is old enough to walk I shall show him properly," Arthur admitted proudly, pointing out Gwen's old house to the boy and whispering in his ear that it was his mother's home, their son responding in kind.

"Lancelot has gone?"

"He has. He said he would not bother you again," Arthur said nonchalantly. The rival gone, the King now un-phased by him. It wasn't the man's presence that had his mind reeling with happiness. It was the thought that Guinevere would never submit to him. Lancelot would never win.

"He did?"

"You know, he actually thanked me."

"He did?"

"He thanked me for looking after you and for making you happy. Whatever you told him, I'd love to here it."

"I merely told him what he already knew, showed him that this is the path I've chosen."

"The path you want?" Gwen reached her hand up to stroke Llancan's head, his soft hair against his head, his incessant giggling infectious in the morning sun.

"Always."


End file.
